To Solve a Paradox
by Yarrie - Water Master
Summary: Twoshot! Izumi's monotonous daily routine is broken suddenly when someone, or something, moves in next door. But maybe it's been around for a long, long time... Kouzumi
1. Chapter 1

Right, so...this is a supernatural AU two-shot...featuring my usual characters. Man, oh man...when am I ever going to get that next chapter of Close Enough edited?

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To Solve a Paradox

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Izumi's first day at school was more eventful than most.

Of course, from the perspective of most six year olds, suddenly being thrown into a class of strangers to stay with for hours was already memorable enough. Well, it_ was_ for the frustrated parents if not the children themselves.

But usually, the children came back at the end of the day no worse for the wear.

Usually.

As it turned out, Izumi's protests were probably well justified.

It's been said that children can be unintentionally cruel. For Izumi, that was all too true. A thick rope of pretty blond curls that went all the way down to her waist became a sign of weakness, of something _different_. But name-calling wasn't even the worst of it, because one of the older boys – another first grader – took hold of her hair and dumped a tub of black paint on it.

And Izumi began to cry.

Not because it hurt, or because it was embarrassing, but because the dark splotch wouldn't wash out and she would have to explain to her mother what had happened. And her mother would make an enormous fuss. And fusses meant heated talking and yelling and all sorts of very unpleasant things.

But those things never happened, because the next day the boy's shoelace got stuck in an air vent and tripped him just as he was about to go down a flight of stairs. For a precarious moment the shoe wrenched him back; he hung, and then – fell. The hospital discovered a compound fracture in his right leg and two broken ribs. Izumi's mother harrumphed and said that he deserved it.

It wasn't worth the effort to try to change her mind.

At any point, the woman decided that the school was too rough for the little girl and promptly took her back home.

Izumi left with her willingly.

And returned to her quiet life, safely ensconced away in her room, only seeing her mother when they had brief lessons and the rest of the family on those rare occasions when she decided to attend dinner.

Her brother and sister, unnerved by the sight of a silent sister holding up toys and asking to play with them, started to avoid her. It was never obvious, but her parents couldn't have done much about it anyway because one left for college and the other for boarding school, never to come back for a visit.

The house was completely empty. Empty except for one blond girl, knocking on doors and asking if there was anyone there.

Izumi was lonely.

She wanted someone to stay home with her.

So much.

Only a few days later, her mother became seriously ill and could no longer work. The house was still too big for the two of them, but it was better than before…and Izumi tried her best to be a good girl. After all, her wish was granted.

She was fine.

Weeks passed. Months. Years.

When Izumi was sixteen, a new family moved in next door.

She suddenly became very curious about them when she found out. In fact, it was the first time she had given any extensive thought to the world around her. The interest wasn't particularly memorable by anyone else's standards, but her parents had been shocked.

Even though they shouldn't have been.

Her books, after years of reading and rereading, were no longer interesting. The blond teenager wanted something more. It was only natural.

Natural for anyone but her, that is.

If it had been left up to the two adults, her sudden desire to leave the safety of home would have never come up. But her parents were little more than strangers to their reclusive daughter, so their opinions about the matter didn't exactly cross her mind.

But even Izumi realized that there was something strange about the people who moved next door. No one ever came out of the house. On the surface, it was everything normal and ordinary, with neatly trimmed bushes and a newly whitewashed fence, except that there wasn't even a hint of life stirring from its depths. Not even smoke from the kitchen or the sound of showering, even though she watched from her window every single day. Occasionally, a truck would come to drop something off, and the deliveryman would leave an enormous pallet of packages. By morning they would disappear, taken away under cover of darkness.

It happened again today.

Izumi looked down from her windowsill, uncertainly. She hadn't gone outside in years, and her fair skin was nearly translucent in the sun. It was tempting to stay inside. It was just as tempting to go out and see her new neighbors for herself.

She didn't ask permission from her parents. Nowadays, she didn't ask very much from them at all, actually. Books, lessons, food, and lodging. Outside of those four things, her contact with other human beings was absolutely nil.

But Izumi was restless. More and more, she felt like her home was becoming a cage in which nothing new happened and nothing new would ever happen.

Whatever the reason, she just wanted to see something different. Four walls could only keep a person in for so long. Was that really so much to ask?

Was that really so much to want?

Was that really all that she wanted?

But no, it was time to stop thinking, or she would never stop. An aching feeling settled on her bones and she winced. Too much time spent in a single room had weakened her body and she didn't even know how many steps she could take before succumbing to exhaustion. As she tried to crawl out of the window, she collapsed into a heap on the grass and whimpered slightly in pain.

The itch of the plants against her skin was unfamiliar and unbearable, so she dashed as quickly as she could to the nearest hard surface.

The patio on her neighbor's lawn.

When she got there, she was shaking with exertion after running for the first time in nearly ten years. Izumi barely had the time to think about where she was before she glanced into the house through the back window – and saw eyes staring right back at her.

They floated in midair, surrounded by deep shadows. The skin right next to the eyes was deathly pale and faded into the dark background. Black pupils stared at her through the clear glass pane with its delicate netting, and slowly inched forward.

Izumi was barely breathing. The thin porous fabric was dark and shielded most details of the other person's face, but she could feel the intensity of his or her stare.

Tentatively, she reached out a hand.

A sharp crash from inside the house suddenly had her jerking her head up. When she looked back down, the face wasn't there anymore.

Silent with shock, and reeling from the half-meeting, Izumi slid down to her knees. The side patio felt rough and hard under her feet, and she bit her lip. It was obviously a leftover from building the house, an extra layer of hard rock that was unsuitable for actually seating anyone.

The rough texture scraped against her bare feet and palms, and Izumi was very careful when she stood up again.

Now what?

She had come out of hiding to meet…whoever it was living in that house.

And she had seen him. Or her. Or one of them, if there was more.

Did just seeing someone count as a meeting?

Izumi didn't know. But there was the distinct edge of dissatisfaction in her chest, and she bit her lip. Now that she knew for sure that someone was in the house next door, what could she do?

Perhaps she should meet them again. But that would require yet another repeat of today: sneaking out and standing awkwardly on the edge of their house, hoping for some sign of the same person to show up. And Izumi wasn't comfortable enough in the outside world to do that.

But she was too curious to let it be.

As she carefully retreated back into her bedroom, she kept the view of the house in her peripheral vision. The windows were all dark, but Izumi thought she saw the faintest glimpse of a person's shadow moving on the textured glass…

The four walls of her room suddenly felt much more stifling than they had ever been before. Sliding awkwardly through the small gap, she suddenly stumbled forward onto the soft carpet. Izumi lay there for a few tired moments, almost longing for the sensation of itchy grass and hard cement. Absolute exhaustion took over, and she whimpered quietly. It looked like she wasn't going to get anything done tonight, so she dragged herself up and fell onto the bed.

Without moving from that very comfortable position, Izumi tried to reach her covers. The tip of her pinky managed to touch the blanket's edge, but without a good grip, the effort proved impossible. She groaned, and gave up. Sleep was more important.

When she woke up again, it was afternoon on the next day. The blinds were left open from the day before. The sun's rays lit up the room in bright streaks, and Izumi winced. The fact that she had slept the entire day away didn't bother her as much as it should have.

She slid out and stumbled into the adjacent bathroom. Long stringy hair dangled in front of her eyes, and she sighed. Pulling her fingers through the mass impatiently, she started to scramble for her brush for a while before giving up. Instead, Izumi walked to the standing shower on the other side of the room.

Her clothes were left in a rumpled trail behind her.

When she came out again, Izumi nearly tripped on the piles of fabric. With her towel clutched around her middle, she backed away and slumped against the wall. Groaning quietly with dizziness, she dragged her feet back into the room and into her closet.

The door was already open, so she stepped inside and looked dispassionately over her wardrobe. There wasn't a lot of variety – her clothing was mostly black and white, modestly cut. On a whim, Izumi pushed past all the monochromatic shirts and jackets to find a certain mint green sundress that she hadn't worn for years.

She slipped it on with some difficulty and stretched her left arm to reach the zipper. Her fingers pulled at the metal bit until it was about two inches from her collar, and then it got stuck. Groaning, she left it there. It took too much energy bothering about little things like that.

Everything else was put on with similar carelessness.

Usually, getting ready didn't take this long, considering that the only people who saw Izumi were her parents (sometimes) and Izumi herself. And she wasn't exactly vain.

It certainly helped that her only mirror was in the bathroom and only fifteen minutes were spent there on an average day. Her face was just…there. It existed. Like with most things, she couldn't bring herself to care much about her appearance.

She tried to pull on her sock while standing on one leg, but her balance wasn't cooperating today. After nearly falling twice, she flounced over to the bed to sit down and do it properly.

A heavy book left lying on the floor made Izumi's ankle twist when she stepped on it.

Yelping in surprise, Izumi fell over the hard binding and rolled over the wooden edge of her bed. The sharp corner jabbed her calf hard and she stumbled back over the other side of the bed, cursing weakly. The pain was sharp, but not unbearable. A stain of red was left on her carpet when she pushed herself up again, and she quickly checked over her body.

A long, jagged cut ran down her leg, and she winced. The smear of blood made it appear worse than it actually was, though, and after running to the sink to wet a spare towel, the liquid began to thin out and roll down her leg.

Quickly, so that the viscous trickle wouldn't reach her sock, Izumi covered the broken skin with the cloth and watched the red color soak through.

There was a faint ache due to the pressure of her hands, but other than that, it felt completely normal. The bleeding was a problem, though. She wouldn't be able to go anywhere for a while.

Frustrated, Izumi dropped her head back against her thick comforter and sighed. After all the effort spent getting up today, it looked like she wouldn't be able to satisfy her curiosity.

At least, not directly.

But Izumi was incredibly optimistic, probably because no one ever taught her to be otherwise, so she simply dropped into her chair and pulled a few blank sheets of paper from the desk.

And then she sat there, stumped.

What on earth could she write?

The paper stayed perfectly clean and blank, and Izumi groaned, letting her hand scratch out randomly over its surface.

Hello

Should she put a comma after the greeting? She chewed her lip indecisively, then left it the way it was.

My name is…

That sounded kind of boring. Not that Izumi could really say what was boring when she lived most of her life under a rock. Almost literally. She scratched it out.

_I'm your next-door neighbor_.

But so were her parents. It was kind of dishonest to imply that she was alone.

_I'm _one_ of your next-door neighbors._

No, it sounded like there were many of them. What about…

_I live in the house next door_.

There! A good start.

As if in agreement, the rest of the note flowed smoothly down the rumpled page. Izumi reached the very bottom, then turned it over to keep going. At some point, she didn't even know what she was writing down, only that she was and that it was getting very long. It was like her hand took over and filled the letter with everything she had ever known, without her consent.

Losing control was both frightening and wonderful. Eventually, the sound of a scratching pen slowed to a stop. About halfway down the sheet, the line of ink trailed into unintelligible drops, and Izumi looked down at the page blankly.

Eventually, she shook off the feeling of strangeness and started planning the next move.

A note wouldn't be a note if it was never read, after all.

And she had an idea. A very strange, very possible idea. And if it worked out, it would be easy to get what she wanted.

So, exactly one week after she opened the door to the world, Izumi found herself nervously clutching a rumpled sheet of paper. The sky overhead was a filmy gray color, so cloudy that the entire atmosphere looked like one thick sheet of felt. As a byproduct of her sheltered life, she had to think for a long time before realizing that most people would take potentially bad weather as an omen. She filed away the miscellaneous observation without trying to analyze it, and waited.

By now, the delivery truck's patterns were obvious. The mysterious packages came once a week for three weeks, then every day for half a month. Approximately. And today, if her guess was right, she would have her chance.

And Izumi was right. Seeing the stiff pile of wood and paper and string made her lose the nerves that she didn't even know she had. Emboldened, she slid her fingers under a taut string and tucked the note underneath, letting it snap back into place securely. And then she turned around on a random whim. Facing the front door, she suddenly reeled back when a nauseous smell hit her nose. It faded when she backed away, but the unpleasantness wasn't enough to deter her curiosity.

She was almost touching the door with her nose. Up close, she could tell that the black shine on the door wasn't normal. It looked like a sheet of paper slathered liberally with motor oil. Now she could identify the source of the smell: a wet coat of paint.

But when did that happen? How?

To her knowledge, the house was as still and silent and secret as always, holding its inhabitants inside like a magnificent prison. Since the first 'meeting' Izumi kept her window open all the time, waiting eagerly for some sign of activity. And whenever she was not doing work – which was very often – she was watching. Not that there was much to watch.

A coffin nail would make more commotion than the house next door.

For the first time since her vigil began, Izumi felt frustrated. Her decision to avoid face-to-face confrontations took away a lot of options. And her neighbor wasn't exactly cooperating with her fanatical information hunt.

The blond girl stared at her feet. Recently she had been taking many short walks around her room, trying to get her body used to the exercise. Her progress was still frustratingly slow, but soon…

She would be able to walk around. Just like everybody else. It was a nice thought.

Izumi kicked her legs out quickly, realizing that she was still sitting in the middle of a stranger's porch. A flush of embarrassment ran up her neck, and she dusted her skirt off quickly before marching away.

When she slipped into her room the same way as before, balancing on the windowpane, she suddenly lost her balance and fell inside. The glass pane slammed down after her, and she spent a long time eyeing the cold, lifeless surface.

When she slipped into her desk, back to the window, it felt like someone had perched just outside, watching her.

Trigonometry and derivatives ran down the page, but bounced off the cloudy daydream in her head. Izumi started humming for no reason in particular, almost forgetting why she was still working this late in the day. She couldn't concentrate, which was fairly unusual by itself, but was even stranger in conjunction with the rest of her symptoms.

Sleep was difficult, too. As the days grew ever longer, her attention span grew ever shorter, except when she thought of her little quest of curiosity. On that subject and that subject alone, she was completely focused, ready to spend as much time as possible doing what she needed to do to find out more.

Even so, Izumi was getting impatient. The books in her drawer were too thoroughly read to warrant even the briefest of glances, so she began to write another letter, in hopes that some random word or sentence would encourage the silence next door to reveal all of its secrets. Her strict attention to the calendar – measuring and calculating all of the predicted delivery days – kept her organized. When the sky was overcast and the position of the sun was impossible to see, every clock in the room would be moved at least a dozen times so that she could keep track of the time.

But even with all that, she wasn't obsessed. Not really. Obsession would mean that she was unnecessarily fixed on figuring the mystery out.

It was more accurate to say that she was obsessed with obsession. In love with love.

And she would stop at nothing to find out more.

Logically, she knew that it would have to end someday. There was a limit to how long she could keep chasing a shadow and hope to keep up. But for the moment, she was satisfied.

She wrote a great deal of that into her next letter. And on the next delivery day, she quietly stole out to send it. This time, Izumi's nerves were completely steady, mostly because of her experience. She did it once before. She could do it again.

It had gotten colder. The sky was dark, with soft misty clouds scattered over the horizon. The air tasted like rain, and she shivered.

The truck was moving now, rumbling silently down the street. The package had been dropped off, as always, by shadowy figures and nameless faces. She held her breath, trying to get a new angle on the visitors, but they were thickly wrapped in solid black suits. How they could see through the face masks, she didn't know, but they obviously did.

The vehicle started rolling down the street, and it wasn't until it had completely vanished into the thick mist that Izumi stepped out onto the street.

She went up to the front door cautiously. Her bare feet made a soft patting sound that echoed against the silent walls. Izumi made it all the way to the pallet before she realized, to her chagrin, that there was no string tied around the packages today. A pool of irrational panic gathered in her gut.

As soon as Izumi felt it, though, she concentrated on holding her breath for as long as she could. That distracted her long enough for the alarm to subside.

No string meant that she would just have to find another way to attach her note. She started looking through the boxes for a hole or flap of some kind that would tie the sheet of paper down, but found none. Refusing to give up, Izumi then turned to the front door. Her jaw dropped.

It was open.

In all of her days of watching, she had never seen any sign of life in the house.

This didn't necessarily tell her anything – but she was never one to let an opportunity slip by. Letter completely forgotten in her hands, Izumi cautiously crept around the doorway and into an unlit hallway. It was dark, but not as dark as she had expected. Apparently the light from the hallway window was enough to keep the shadow at bay, though not very much. Apart from the dim outlines of the white plaster walls, there wasn't anything else that might get in the way of walking – which was mostly how she viewed furniture.

On the right side, she found a light switch, but flipping it did absolutely nothing. Not a completely unexpected result.

Normally her instincts would tell her to run away as fast as she could, but somehow the abandoned aura of the house was just as persuasive in encouraging the opposite. It was just as empty as she had always imagined.

Or not.

The shadow launched itself forward and dragged her in. There was the sound of a single drop of water splashing to the ground.

The silence was so thick that it filled her ears with a faint buzz. Wispy clouds of fog kept dancing past her field of vision, and when her brain finally connected them to the faint sighing sounds coming from her right, Izumi instinctively turned to look there.

At first she thought she was dreaming, before she realized that the sensations of humidity and coolness were too vivid to be anything but real. There was a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy (or man) in front of her, his skin nearly silver in the dim light. Black strands of hair poured down into the misty water, and Izumi jerked up in surprise.

She was in the middle of a pool. Staring at her hands, she lifted them cautiously through the filmy substance, but they were completely dry despite the sensation of moisture. Izumi tried to carry some of the watery liquid in her palm, but it slipped through easily, and she was left completely bewildered.

Soft ripples spread around her as she started moving around. The tiny waves reached the other person's skin and lapped up gently.

_You are awake_.

The words appeared in her head, and her panicky eyes flickered over to the young man in front of her. Something about his appearance made her doubt just how 'young' he was, but his skin was smooth like marble and didn't show a single sign of age. He wasn't exactly 'old,' either, but there was no better way to describe that untouchability. A thick layer of bandages covered him from the edge of his shoulders to his waist, where the rest of his body vanished into the liquid chasm.

She asked him, "Who are you?" and the sound of her voice echoed so loudly that it actually hurt to listen.

He didn't move. Again, the faint impression of dialogue made its way into her mind without any sign of where it had come from: _You are awake_.

Izumi wondered if there was something that he wanted to say, so she played along, hesitantly. "Yes."

_That's not good_.

"I…it isn't?" This time, Izumi couldn't contain a soft squeak at how horribly loud everything sounded. It was like every tiny vibration in the air was transmitting into her ears indiscriminately. There was no reply to her question, so she asked instead, "How…?" hoping that he would make the proper connections by himself and tell her how to talk without opening her mouth.

Luckily enough, he seemed to understand. _You can say it in your head. As long as you want to._

She started to open her mouth but the figure suddenly moved, fingers closing around her mouth.

_Think_.

She did. _Like this_.

_Yes._ The normally smooth message was punctuated by a hint of approval. _You learn fast._

She nodded wildly, green eyes wide with consternation. He shook his head almost mournfully, as though he were talking to a child, and rose out of the water by bracing his hands on the walls behind him.

Izumi suddenly realized that she was leaning against a solid edge, and she turned around to trace her fingers over it. _Books,_ she realized, with a sudden shock. Why would there be books? Besides the fact that they wouldn't make for very sturdy walls, a pile of paper was hardly waterproof.

White fingers closed over hers, and she was startled to see that her own hands were just as pale and thin.

_You should not be here_.

_I don't want to be_, she replied, only half honestly. This was the most curious thing she had ever seen, why would she want to leave? On the other hand, it was rather disorienting being stranded here without anything to do. She looked longingly at the books. What a waste of good reading material.

_Don't even think about it_. He sounded almost panicked at the thought, and she couldn't help but grin.

_Are all these yours?_

Something sparked in the dead eyes, and he actually turned to face her this time. _No. They are much, much too old._

_Oh_.

He fished out a pale orb of light from under the mist, and she stared for a moment. His fingers were wrapped around a small bowl of sorts, and there was milky fluid spiraling inside like a tornado. She watched with fascination, then confusion when he pressed it into her hands.

_Drink. Be careful not to breathe it in_.

So she did, throwing caution to the wind, because the logic in this world was completely twisted around and it wasn't like she had anything better to do. It tasted like caramel and satisfaction. The white twister floated to the top of the liquid, finally falling down in pale droplets over the curve of her neck.

Then Izumi slumped backwards into a deep sleep. This pattern repeated itself for a long, long time. She asked once, rather sleepily, what was in the liquid, but he never had an answer for her. Somehow Izumi got the feeling that even he didn't really know.

She had also asked him, rather embarrassingly, _Are you human_?

To which he'd stared at her rather amusedly, but didn't reply. At the moment, though, that was her primary objective: figure out whether or not her unexpected benefactor was human, real, supernatural, or any combination of the three.

At this point, she was pretty sure that the last one was true. The telepathy was evidence enough of that, even if she wasn't sure that it was telepathy in the traditional sense. But then again, she never felt awake enough to ask about how that worked, either, which was a real pity. She would have loved to learn about it…

_You wanted to ask me something?_

_Eh?_ Izumi suddenly realized that she was still awake and didn't know why. What a way to take advantage of the opportunity, but after spending such a long time half-conscious she was still disoriented.

_Your thoughts are very loud, princess_.

_Not a princess_, she thought indignantly. The pressure of laughter inside her head wound Izumi up even more. _I'm not, really!_

_Of course._

She huffed and decided not to get any more sidetracked than she already was. _Who are you?_

_A memory. People used to call me Kouji. _

_Can I call you that? _

_Would I tell you if I didn't want you to?_

_Do you always answer a question with a question?_

_Is that a bad thing?_

_See, you're doing it again._

_I am._

The sound of the dismissal in his tone was painfully clear in the hypersensitive regions of her mind. Izumi made a faint, protesting sound, but the force pushing her back was stronger.

_Sleep_.

The first thing she realized when she woke up was how clear everything was. Somewhere along the way, her eyes had gotten accustomed to the darkness and she could make out so many more details. For example, the liquid only looked like liquid when the lighting was poor. Now she could tell that it was more like a thickly woven blanket of mist. Mist fibers, for lack of a better way to describe them.

Seeing as there was no way she could figure out what they were with a book, she turned to her almost motionless companion. _What is this made out of?_

_Thoughts, princess. _

_What?_

_You shouldn't look so surprised_. For the first time, she could distinguish a kind of voice behind the message, and she concentrated as hard as she could to figure out how it was different from **her** thoughts.

_I don't understand_, she protested. _What exactly…how does that work?_

He lifted a cool palm up, running it through the thick moist clouds. _They're thoughts_, he repeated, slowly and impatiently. _That's what they are._ _They make up the world._

_They do? Is that the way things work around here?_

_It's the same everywhere in the world._

_This world, or the other one?_

_What other one?_

_Outside._

_It's all one world, princess._

_No…I mean, they don't look the same._

_You haven't gone anywhere, if that's what you're asking. It's just that now you see the things that most people try not to._

_Would I have been able to see you before? Outside?_

_I don't know. I haven't been outside in a very long time._

_Are you real?_ she asked, perfectly serious. For a moment, the air rung and vibrated.

He was transmitting his amusement through the entire area, and she could literally feel it running across her skin tantalizingly. A wonderful power, indescribable and unforgettable. Izumi wondered if she could learn how to do it, but decided to ask later.

_Everything you see here has always been here._

_Like you?_

_Oh, no. I think I am like you. Was like you. _For the first time, Kouji sounded hesitant. _I can't remember anymore._

_How long ago?_

_A long time. Just long._

Of course. With the unchanging surroundings, there was no way that he could keep track of time in this place. No sun, not even any windows, or even the slightest hint of aging. She once dived into the pool to read the titles of the books; many were written in languages that – to her knowledge – didn't even exist anymore. How old was this place?

_I don't know, princess_.

Izumi instantly flushed, like she always did when he read her mind unexpectedly. The invasion of privacy left her feeling bereft and lost. _Is there a way out?_

There wasn't a reply from his side, only the faint buzz of confusion.

Izumi clarified. _Is there a way to go back to where I came from?_

_Where is that?_

_It's…_ Izumi tried to reach deep within her consciousness and felt the beginnings of panic when she didn't remember. _It's…_

_Yes?_ He sounded impatient again, and she wondered how he had lasted so long by himself with such a short attention span.

For her part, though, she felt lost and afraid. _I don't know_. _I don't know where I came from! Where is this place? Kouji!_

He winced. _Too loud._

_I'm sorry_, she said, dejectedly. _But I need to get out. I need to…_

_Thoughts, remember? _Kouji tapped his forehead. _If you keep thrashing around like that, you'll lose them even faster._

_What?!_

_The water,_ he repeated. _It's made of thoughts. It needs to feed, you know. _

_Feed_. Izumi shuddered, whether in anger or in fear, she didn't know. _How? Why? Why would you…? Why didn't you tell me?_

A sudden chill in the water tightened around her body, squeezing her skin. Gasping, Izumi frantically tried to back away from the complete body hold, but the cold seeped into her bones and left her tired and sick and sore.

She was suddenly hauled out of the water, gasping and choking. The world tipped on its axis and made her blink hazily through the flashing dark spots. As much as she was relieved to be out of the sudden whirlpool, Izumi had to pull herself free again to cough out little drops of mist.

_You idiot. Don't insult the water like that._

She glared at him and ran a hand through her hair, shocked to find that it had grown into a thick mass almost a foot longer than the last time she had seen it. Somehow, that made a bigger impression on her than anything else that had happened today, including the near-drowning.

_You need to get your priorities in order, princess._

Again with the invasion of privacy! Izumi was peeved, and told him so. Then he (sort of) laughed, and she rather crossly informed him that she didn't appreciate being made fun of.

Which made him (sort of) laugh again. She promptly turned around and ignored him as long as she could. That didn't last long, though, because she quickly fell into a much-needed doze. Kouji whispered brief self-defenses that Izumi rejected more out of principle than out of anger, and all was quiet.

Until she woke up again, sleepily. For once, Izumi was completely alone, and she spent the next few minutes searching for her companion. Nothing in the immediate area turned up, so she decided to walk along the edge of the pool to look for him. Before leaving, Izumi marked her starting point by opening one of the books and placing it back on the wall. Then she went along her way.

The water was fairly deep, but nothing that she couldn't handle. Sometimes the floor would turn to mush and Izumi had to wade through the thick mixture, other times her skin felt completely dry and untouched as she walked through. The inconsistency made her uncomfortable now that she knew that all of it was made of people's thoughts, because then she had to wonder why some thoughts were heavier and others lighter, and why there were more heavy ones than light –

She started to slow down as her eyelids felt heavier and heavier… No. She couldn't sleep. She had to keep going…

Where was she going?

The faint memory of blue eyes slid behind her eyes, and she was startled into moving again. That's right. Kouji wasn't there. Where was Kouji? Where was this? Where was her home?

Where…where…where….

The pressure in her head was horrible and it left her sprawled against the wall, gasping. The thin tendrils of water that were slipping into her body became thicker and thicker until she felt like the center of a cobweb. Slowly, Izumi became aware of someone or something all around her, throbbing in the deep pool and dripping precious bits of life into the air. The drowsiness vanished completely.

Izumi gasped out loud and tried to scream. The words got stuck in her throat and she was left to choke on the rising waves. Desperate but not so much that she forgot how to think, Izumi tried to open up her mind and send signals all along the quivering liquid. Somewhere, she felt someone respond to her cry for help, but it was too far away for her to hear them. The pressure conquered every last inch of control she still had over her mind, and she slipped under.

It looked like a completely different world.

Floundering in a fathomless sea, Izumi finally managed to arrange herself into an awkward paddling position that kept her head upright, long enough to look around. Fortunately or unfortunately, she cared more about the fact that she was still alone than she did about vanishing off to who knows where.

A white spiral dashed past suddenly and Izumi reached out a hand to snatch it. Pain laced her fingers and she let go with a cry, but the little miniature tornado stayed put. Izumi poked at it cautiously and received another sting for her trouble. By now, she was sure that it was the same as the swirl that Kouji used to give her, but it didn't look like she could drink it. Maybe there was something that he did to make it edible? Or rather, potable?

The response to her distress call came again – and this time she could hear it very clearly. Izumi began to maneuver her body around so that she was facing the source of the reply, and then she set off once more. Slowly, the faint messages sharpened and cleared.

Just before the transmission of incomprehensible sound unraveled and returned full blast, Izumi broke through the surface and landed awkwardly in someone else's arms.

_Princess!_

She had never been more relieved to hear that nickname. _Kouji?_ She shifted around so that she could look at him in the eye, tilting her head back almost parallel to the surface of the water.

_Where did you go?_

_I should ask you that first_, she countered.

Though Kouji's face rarely changed expression, Izumi had learned to feel for his emotions mentally by stretching her thoughts over him. And right now, his mind practically thrummed with indignation. _Why did you run? It was safe where you were._

_And I should trust you…why?_

_Good point,_ he admitted reluctantly. _You still don't know me. And you don't understand._

_Then tell me._

_Will you believe me?_

_Depends on what you tell me._ Of course, Izumi wasn't about to tell him that her standards for believing random strangers had dropped considerably over the course of her stay here. It wasn't like she had much choice in the matter. There was always the option of not trusting him – but then she probably wouldn't have survived. It was official: she hated being dependent on another human being…although she had her doubts as to whether or not Kouji was actually human, but that was another issue altogether.

And it didn't escape her notice that he had actually **asked** this time.

_Will you trust me?_

Izumi had no idea why, but it was inconceivable saying anything but _Yes._

_Then I will tell you_.

And he did. About the seas. About what little he remembered. About the water that wasn't really water. He must have gone on for hours, because she was sitting there and listening long after she already felt too tired to think for herself.

When the trail of information faded away, she held onto him with slightly trembling hands. _This place is magical._

_It is. A beautiful home._

She was rather inclined to agree with him. The devil's advocate in her, however, pointed out the obvious hole in the argument. Namely, the fact that she already had a home, one that was very much non-aquatic. As if in response to the depressing memories that would inevitably crop up, the pressure against her head suddenly backed off and allowed a few meaningless images to filter through from his side.

A white house.

A green lawn.

A delivery truck.

Sudden recognition lit up when she saw that particular memory. _Kouji, is that your house?_

_I don't know,_ he replied, almost carelessly.

_How can you not know?_ Izumi let her hands splay on his chest, raveling and unraveling the secure bandages on his chest. The skin underneath was perfectly healthy and whole, so she had to wonder why he wore them. On the other hand, he didn't seem to have anything else to wear, so she couldn't really complain.

_It's complicated_.

_Everything here's complicated. I've got time, remember?_

He stood there breathing under her cautious examination, looking rather pleased at the skin contact. Then her fingers sank into the curve of his waist, and Kouji's hands suddenly shot forward to pull up against him. This time, he made his intentions clear before actually doing it, so Izumi didn't really mind. Telepathy – or whatever it was – was quite convenient sometimes.

_We call it miming here._

_Eh?_

_Our way of speaking. _He slipped one hand over her shoulder and into her hair. _It's called miming._

_Alright then. Why do you call it something else?_

His mouth twitched. _Talking and speaking deal with your mouth. Miming doesn't._

_Why do you mime? I mean, you could just as easily talk, couldn't you?_

_Headache._

_That's true. Why is the sound here so loud?_

_Echo._

_We're back to one letter replies again! Kouji…_ Izumi was practically whining, not that it was any of her fault. Of course not. He was the one who had to make her feel like a little girl who needed someone to hold her hand. Nothing to do with her. Nope. Not at all.

_Of course not. And by the way, the sky's not blue either._

_Kouji, shut up._

_But I'm not even talking, princess,_ he mocked with a soft snicker. Well, at least he was using full sentences again.

She took advantage of his sudden sociability. _Kouji, why is there water everywhere?_

_Because that's the first step._

_To what?_

_To life._

_Water?_

_Do you need a geography lesson, princess? _He teased her gently. _Primeval seas? First life on earth?_

_And how do you know – _

_The water remembers. _Kouji tilted his body so that he could float on his back. _Everything. One day it'll tell you about all of it._

_But I'm guessing that today's not my lucky day?_

_Silly thing. You'll definitely know when it's time. _

_And in exchange for this information…_

_You'll give it all of your thoughts._ At seeing her horrified look, he quickly added, _Not all at once, mind you. But it'll take everything away eventually._

_Why would it do that?_

_Princess, it's called poetic justice. It will give you everything that it has if you do the same. It's a mutual exchange. _

Izumi began to shiver slightly. _I don't know if I want it._

_Nobody does until it's already done. You'll learn to live with it._

_I won't,_ she retorted defiantly. _I need to get back home._

The energetic buzz that surrounded his mind suddenly cut off and she felt cold. _Princess, you have no idea why you're here, do you?_

_I went into your house,_ she replied shortly.

_My house?_

_The house in the memory that you gave me._

_Ah. That._

_It's not yours?_

He turned to look at her, pale with pity. _It must have been. But I'm not that person anymore._

_But you're still here,_ she murmured, suddenly realizing how close they were. Her chin was just a hair's breadth away from the crook of his neck, and they were pressed together from chest to knee. It was unbelievably comfortable.

_Yes. Here. Not in that house. _He sounded determined to explain his point of view. Izumi was, quite frankly, more than ready to have this discussion.

_But it's not the same for me,_ she told him. _I have a room back outside. With books. And a family._ The last was said as an afterthought, and there was barely any feeling put into the declaration. She knew he would notice, and cursed herself for being so easily read.

As expected, he commented on her apathy._ But do you really want to go back?_

Chin high. Back straight. _It's none of your business anyway. But I want to get out. I dare you to tell me that I'm lying. I know that you can tell._

_Princess. When I said that you can't go back, I meant it. You…cannot…go…back._

Izumi bristled at the patronizing tone, but somehow didn't think to disentangle herself from his arms. _Why can't I?_

Kouji sighed heavily. _The water already gave part of itself to you,_ he said patiently. _It won't let you go until you give an equal measure back._

_What does it want? Memories?_

_Yes. _

_Then I'll give it some memories. I've got a few from childhood – _

_No. Listen. This place isn't like any other place in the world. It's outside of time. You've practically become immortal. In exchange for that, do you honestly think that the water will be satisfied with some worthless memory that you don't even care about?_

Izumi hoped that her face showed how horrified she felt. It might help convince him of how completely she wanted out, now, before something awful happened. _I didn't ask for it. I still have to pay the price, even though I had no choice in the matter?_

_Yes, _he confirmed quietly. _For living here this long, you have already entered a contract. You owe the water. And now it demands its payment._

Her fingers stopped trembling somewhat when Kouji reached down to touch them to his lips. _It needs all of my thoughts, doesn't it?_

_Yes. But you will always make more._

_Am I stuck here forever?_

_You have to give away all of your thoughts, but you'll never die. It's impossible to fulfill your part of the contract._

_Is that a yes?_ Instead of panicking like she did last time, anger coiled around her spirit until she was ready to lash out at anyone and anything. A restraining wave held her back, and after dealing with him for so long, Izumi instantly recognized the source. _Kouji, let me go._

_No. Calm down first._

_I won't!_

_Stay there, then._

She sucked in a breath. Even before trying to talk to him, she had known that he wouldn't support her. But there had been a chance that he would change his mind. The well-hidden hesitance was becoming clearer and clearer the more she pushed him. It would only take a little bit more.

_What are you going to do?_ Kouji looked at her seriously, calculatingly.

Izumi knew: it was dangerous to play like this with an intelligent ally. She might end up owing him more than she could pay for the help. Still. It was worth a shot. _I don't know. I need a plan. And to make a plan, I need information. _

_And I'm the perfect person for the job, I suppose._

_Yes. Does that bother you? _She waited with bated breath. His message was delivered in a deliberate monotone; she didn't need to be told to know that he had figured out what she wanted. It only proved her right in wanting him as a partner. Still, compatibility was only half the equation. If he didn't want to join, it would be over before she had the chance to do anything.

A partner was just that, a partner. One half. It wouldn't be right to seize him up without laying out what she wanted. Then she would be a hypocrite.

Finally, he looked up and met her gaze unflinchingly. _I accept your challenge. Lead the way, princess._

Relief flooded her heart, and she slung her arms around him delightedly. _Of course._

_

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...._


	2. Chapter 2

Second part...just as long as the first, but not quite as confusing.

Enjoy.

* * *

They debated strategy, although it was nothing that a general would recognize, or even a historian. Most of what they argued out was in terms of philosophy – meaning a jumbled mess of definitions and quotes and all sorts of problems that had no conceivable solution but were still out there, waiting to be solved. It was a chaotic session of brainstorming that took up all of their energy and left them very much ready to sleep after it was over.

In the end, they came up with hundreds of plans, all of which had some problem or another, and most of which were simply revised versions of each other. The true answer stood out of their reach, which frustrated both to no end.

Izumi mentioned the failures to her companion, rather disheartened. He sighed quietly in response. _And what did you expect, princess? For a solution to drop out of the sky?_

_Even if it did, it wouldn't reach us here, _she pointed out dryly, completely passing over the main part of his comment. Unfortunately, Kouji would not be ignored, and he continued to badger her with their lack of progress until she snapped at him to shut up.

Then he laughed and mimed, _I told you so._

_If you have the time to talk, you have the time to think._

_So do you,_ he pointed out, before doing as she asked. _Can you feel the contract yet?_

_What?_ Izumi rolled her eyes up to look at him.

_The contract._

_Are we talking about the one that I supposedly made that dropped me here?_

_Yes._

_Am I supposed to feel it?_

Kouji sighed a little impatiently. _Do you remember when you first came here?_

_Yes. _She thought back to it. As hazy and sleepy as the memory was, at least it was still there. But she couldn't remember anything strange about it. Was there supposed to be?

_But you don't feel it?_ Kouji sounded skeptical, just enough to annoy her.

_It might help if you told me what to look for._

_Never mind, then._

_Kouji?_

He waited, patiently, for her to continue. That made her sigh inwardly; something about him just radiated calm and peace, but not the kind that war-torn countries wished for. To Izumi, his peace was more like the peace that came just before death, knowing that the world couldn't be changed anymore. It was better when Kouji spoke, because then he didn't seem quite so lifeless. Izumi tried to keep him like that as much as possible, but it was hard. When the wall of silence slammed down, there was no breaking it.

_Do __**you**__ feel it?_

He didn't answer for so long that she almost gave up. Then, just as suddenly, he picked up where the conversation left off. _The contract?_

_Yeah._

_Yes. I remember being asked for my name, and then being told that I don't have one anymore._

She blinked, then said accusingly, _The water asked you?_

_No._

And that was it. The look in his eyes was so forbidding that Izumi promptly bit back the half-formed question in her head. Instead, she asked, _What happened then?_

_I entered the contract. _

_Just like that?_

_Just like that._

_But I haven't been asked for my name._ Izumi paused, then her eyes widened. _You don't even know my name, do you? I'm sorry. I didn't realize…_

_It doesn't matter. You'll always be Princess to me._

She groaned silently in her head. _Right. But I don't know what you're talking about, so I guess the answer to your question is no…_

_I suppose._

_Kouji, why is this place immortal?_

He gave a slight shrug. _Because it's water. And it represents the beginning of time._

_Just for that?_

_What else could it be? If it's just the beginning, why would it need to move forward?_

She chewed her lip, feeling somewhat self-conscious. _Why do people think that immortality is such a wonderful thing?_

_Because they don't have it. _Kouji reached a hand down to toss a few stray yellow hairs back. Izumi watched him detachedly. He seemed to do that a lot. For someone as quiet as he was, Kouji was surprisingly tactile. _Have you accepted it yet? The immortality._

She shook her head tiredly. _Is there anything else that it's giving us? Tell me now. I don't like surprises, Kouji._

_Well – the spirals, but that's related to the immortality issue. _

_Spirals?_

_The ones I gave you to drink._

_Oh, those. Why did you give them to me anyway?_ Izumi began to fidget slightly with her hair, which was still growing, and rather quickly too.

_Because it seemed like the right thing to do. _Kouji actually pulled himself partly out of the water to sit on the thick wall of books. Izumi felt a faint pang of jealousy – he was obviously much more comfortable there than she was here, but after sleeping most of her time away it was doubtful that she had enough strength to pull herself up. However, she didn't get a chance to ask before Kouji suddenly swooped down and gripped her elbows firmly, dragging her up before she even knew what was happening.

_You should ask next time,_ he chastised. She hung her head to hide the blush. It was hardly an appropriate reaction if she wanted to be taken seriously. Instead, she motioned to her arms, which were still lying flat against his palms.

Kouji let go of her quickly, but didn't move very far away. She could feel his clean, focused aura brushing up against her. It lulled her into a temporary feeling of security before she realized what was happening and quickly redirected the conversation. _Kouji. What are those spirals for?_

_Drinking._

_I know that_, she hissed, exasperated. _But why?_

_Who knows? I suppose you can look at it as food. _

_But we can't die here. Not of starvation or anything else._

_Not that kind of food. As far as I can tell, it's made of the same thing that the water is._

She stared at him, horrified. _Wait. So all this time, I've been eating somebody's __**thoughts**__?_

_Is there any other explanation?_

Izumi pulled her legs up until she could lean on her knees. The water lapping innocently at the edge of the wall suddenly became an evil thing, to be avoided at all costs. Now, more than ever, Izumi didn't care what happened to her as long as she could leave and never come out of her room again. _There has to be a way out._

_Why?_

_Why what?_

_Why does there have to be an exit?_

She blinked owlishly at Kouji's serious face. _Because there was an entrance_, she retorted glibly.

He stared at her before letting his forehead drop dejectedly. _And with that absolutely irrefutable logic…_

_Why not?_

_Hm?_

_Why shouldn't I believe that there's an exit?_

_Because there might not be one, princess._ He sounded tired, though of what she didn't know.

_What's your point? If there is a way out, we'll find it. If there isn't, we haven't wasted any time. Immortal, remember?_

Waves of displeased understanding drifted around his mental barriers and brushed against her insistently. She tensed, sensing a potential blow-up, but nothing happened. After a while, she felt cautiously optimistic that he would agree with her.

He didn't. The look on his face proved it. But the seed of doubt had been planted, and Izumi thought that a few more days spent digesting her opinion would do him good.

They returned to their debate even more furiously than before.

Without anything to help them keep track of time, they decided to walk along the entire circumference of the circular wall. According to Kouji, the wall had been there for a very long time, to keep the water level in control. There was a second outer wall with a smooth, plaster-like surface, but the piles of books dropped off so suddenly into nothing that it was impossible to see where it ended. She tried to peer into the darkness, but couldn't make out anything at the bottom. In fact, the only flickers of light came from the cracks in the wall of books, which made Izumi think that there must be something hidden behind them.

Kouji agreed, but rather pointedly told her that he didn't want to find out. Obviously, he was just as wary of the place as she was – just better at hiding it. Izumi was grateful. She didn't want to be alone in her nervousness.

Ever since then, Izumi hadn't stepped into the water. She absolutely refused, not that Kouji could fault her for it. Somehow, the atmosphere wasn't quite as oppressive on dry ground. And after spending a while there, the drowsy spells completely vanished. Izumi worked herself into a frenzy about it, realizing that somehow the water had been draining her body's energy. She probably would have done something reckless if Kouji hadn't shut down parts of her mind and sent her into temporary paralysis.

In hindsight Izumi understood why he had done it. Understanding, however, did not equate forgiveness. A cold shoulder was pretty effective now that she knew how to control her thoughts. Izumi figured that he deserved it.

Plus, it was too much fun to pass up.

Chances to see someone as calm as Kouji all riled up only came once in a blue moon, after all.

But that little bit of fun wouldn't last long. Izumi needed actual cooperation if she wanted to get out of here. There was only so much she was willing to do alone.

They had gone back to exploring the place separately, which was probably his way of giving her room to vent without making himself a convenient punching bag. Not that she could punch hard. But he probably couldn't either.

Still, Izumi wasn't sure how long he would stay on her side. Kouji didn't need her as much as she needed him. That was the sad truth of things. He just didn't want to leave as much as she did, even if he was willingly joining her. Izumi groaned quietly against her hands, and tried to focus on ways to make a truce with him without backing down.

She stepped over a stray book on the ground, and from there she was able to determine the direction of their meeting place. It was too dark to see far, even though the ground was completely flat and empty of obstacles. So, they relied on strategically placed landmarks to find their way back without accidentally falling into the water. Human eyes could only adjust so much to absolute darkness, after all.

He was waiting for her, but not where she was expecting him. They were much farther from the water than usual today, and she asked somewhat hesitantly, _Kouji?_

The strained composure in his eyes would have been amusing if it hadn't been mixed with concern. Her stomach flipped. _Are you alright, princess?_

_What on earth…what's wrong?_ A little nervousness bled into her thoughts, simply because she was curious and worried and vigorously denying all of it.

_Stay still. _His fingers quickly swept down on her shoulders, flattening the bounce of her hair. _You're really alright?_

She stared. _Did something happen?_

_I thought…maybe…never mind. _He lifted his hands and shrugged. _Maybe it was paranoia._

_Hold it. Why were you so worried?_

Kouji took her hand to lead her back to the water edge, and she let him, realizing that he was just trying to calm himself down. _It might be easier to let you see. _

And she saw.

Piles of books had toppled over into a mess of dazzling white light. Izumi gaped at the sudden luminescence in the water and unthinkingly moved closer. When the books under her legs began to sway, she panicked and grabbed onto whatever was closest – which happened to be Kouji. He looked startled but held on tight, pulling her back from the teetering pile of bound paper.

She breathed a sigh of relief and slung her arms over him. _Thank you._

_Not like I could have left you there, you know._

_You could do the polite thing and say no problem, like a normal person._

_Am I normal?_

Izumi fisted her hands into the bandages and realized that they were loose. As she tied them up again, she quietly berated him. _You could be if you wanted._

_And if I don't want to?_

_Then you won't be. Simple as that._

_What about you?_

The white strips over his left shoulder were stubborn and she stopped to unravel the coils on the entire side before redoing them. _I've never been normal. Why should I start now?_

There was a wry look on his face. _I see. No wonder you were accepted._

_Accepted?_

_Did you think that the water takes in everyone that it sees?_

_I…no,_ she breathed out harshly. _Since we were the only ones here._

_It wasn't always like that._

_Really? _That was news to her. Kouji had never spoken of any other people. Admittedly, he was just as wary of talking as Izumi, but that was no reason to keep these things to himself. They got along well, but every little fact that he hadn't told her broke the illusion of friendship. She felt strangely disappointed.

_Yes. There was another person here before me. But he's gone now._

_Who was it?_

_I don't know._ He gave a half-hearted shrug. _He taught me to mime. And then he told me to forgive him. I haven't seen him since. _

_Forgive him? Why?_

_He left._ Kouji said it so blandly and neutrally that it actually surprised her. Izumi would've been much more upset about being abandoned like that. But Kouji took it in a stride. Maybe because he didn't mind being alone? That would be understandable. Was it easier to put up with the water when there was nothing else around you?

Izumi wondered about it, but decided not to ask. They had a tacit agreement not to mention certain subjects, and loneliness was one of them. _How? You said we couldn't get out._

_No, Princess. I said that we couldn't go back to our old lives._

_What's the difference?_

_You can leave without going anywhere._

Izumi opened and closed her mouth, shivering ever so slightly. All of a sudden, she didn't want to know what had happened. _What was his name?_

_He never told me. But he was blond. _Kouji tucked one of her stray hairs behind her ear. _Like you._

Hmm. Perhaps it wasn't so easy for him to be alone after all. She finished off the knot in the back and passed her hands over the entire thing to make sure that it was secure.

_Thank you._

That made her smile. _See, common courtesy. It's not so hard, is it?_

_You are such a princess._

_Why did you start calling me that, by the way?_

_Why not? It fits._

_Right, right,_ she scowled quietly. _In that case I should call you a mummy._

_A mummy?_

_Yeah. It's an Egyptian tradition. To completely cover people's bodies with bandages after they die. _Izumi blinked at him in wonder. There were such enormous gaps in Kouji's knowledge. He could tell her all sorts of stories about the first fish and plants and animals, but everything more recent than the Stone Age was completely blanked out. Besides a few spotty basics about the World Wars and telephones, Kouji seemed to have no awareness of humanity at all. She shook that train of thought off before it distracted her from the conversation; however, the curiosity lingered at the back of her mind.

_My face isn't covered._

She stared at him blankly, so he clarified.

_I don't think that the analogy fits. I've only got bandages on my chest._

_And shoulders,_ she pointed out.

_…and shoulders._

_What's your point? I don't even act like a real princess, but you still call me one._

He scooped her up and sat down, holding her against him securely. Izumi squeaked softly and pumped her legs up in an effort to get him to let go. Kouji just shoved a thick wave of amusement over through their mental link, which made her sputter indignantly. _And yet, you never tell me to stop._

_Stop what?_

_Stop calling you princess._

_…Oh, really?_ She smiled under the cover of her hair.

Kouji didn't reply; he didn't need to. Instead, his head tilted in acknowledgment.

They lay there watching the light play. It was now completely obvious that whatever the pool was made out of, it wasn't water. Instead of reflecting and shining back at them, the stream of light beamed at them hazily. It was like looking at a sunrise on a foggy morning.

_It looks very bright,_ she commented.

He nodded in agreement. _Because it usually isn't._

_I think it's beautiful, though. Even if it hurts my eyes._

As if in reply, another chunk of the books suddenly tore out, and Izumi hissed in shock. Kouji pulled her up quickly, and they stood watching as more light and mist pooled around the new cracks. Although the clouds were blocking view of what was happening, the steadily increasing brightness was alarming. Like dominoes, the wall was coming down.

Izumi's fingers fluttered against the arm around her waist. _Kouji…_

_It knows._

_Who? The water?_

_Yes. I told you, it's not normal._

_Is it actually alive?_

_It might as well be._ Kouji's lips were pressed into a thin line, and the unobtrusive blank mask was dissolving. She could actually see the watchfulness on his face. At some point, he must have decided that hiding and waiting wouldn't help their cause. She was glad to see the change.

The imposed silence had done its job well.

Kouji turned to catch her eye. There was a look of grim respect on his face._ Well played._

Ah. Izumi turned away with a blush. She must have forgotten to hide her thoughts again.

At least he wasn't mad at her for a little bit of manipulation. Or maybe he was and he just didn't show it. Either way, she didn't want to waste time thinking about anything but escaping. Izumi knew that if she got distracted now, it would take a long time to refocus. She wanted to escape as soon as possible, after all. Something cold brushed her feet, and she jumped back, nearly colliding with Kouji. He sidestepped at the last minute, and her momentum barely slowed down in time for her to regain her balance.

The water level was rising. They could see it happening in a rush of blue and white, seeping up between the books. Izumi suddenly felt cold, so she rubbed her upper arms mechanically.

_Is it alive or not? _She waited for a response, feeling him shift behind her. _Well?_

_It isn't dead. What else do you need to know?_

_Not being dead and being alive are very different, Kouji._

_Why do you expect me to know? I am not omniscient, princess._

Izumi gritted her teeth. Bantering aside, she just knew that there was something he wasn't telling her. This quiet and supportive phase that Kouji was going through was very suspicious. After all, he** insisted** that there was nothing they could do, so why would he let her waste time on escape plans? On the other hand, Izumi knew that it was just a matter of asking the right question – if nothing else, Kouji was a master of omission – but along with grudging respect for being able to avoid answering for such a long time, she was starting to feel annoyed.

_Kouji,_ she murmured into his mind, summoning up a deep-seated frustration. _Kouji._

_Princess._

_How does the water tell you things?_

Even though she wasn't facing him, Izumi could feel the rigidity that settled in his backbone, a sensation of tenseness jutting out against her head like a sharp spike. Then it vanished just as quickly as it had come. At any point, Izumi's attention was completely commanded by the mist gathering around her ankles with no sign of letting up. In bits and pieces, exhaustion pooled in the pit of her stomach and penetrated deep into her leg muscles. She wondered, briefly, if Kouji was going through the same thing.

The whisper of moisture was up to her calves. She gulped and sighed aloud.

_Stay awake, princess. Then you'll see how the water talks._

That got her attention, but her body was already slumping over. _Tired._

_Yes._ Kouji guided her around to lean on his shoulder. _Princess, don't close your eyes._

_Just for a little bit, Kouji._

_No._ The hard edge in his voice caught her attention, and she blinked slowly. _Pay attention. If you sleep, you won't wake up._

Her blood ran cold and she threw off the invading chill. _Kouji, what's happening?_

_You insulted it again._

_What?_

_It hurts your eyes, remember?_

_That…_she stared up at him in horror. Dark spots appeared in her peripheral vision, but she ignored them for as long as she could. _It understands me, doesn't it?_

He looked faintly disbelieving. _It's made of thoughts. If it didn't understand, how would it keep growing?_

_It can grow? With new thoughts?_

_Yes._

She stared at the water at their feet, and tried to move. Her muscles felt languid and Izumi had to suck in a few deep breaths before she could even shift her weight around. _Whose thoughts are those, then?_

_Probably yours._

_What do you mean?_

He blinked slightly and looked at her. _The extra water must come from your negative thoughts. Are you still angry?_

_Angry?_

_About how it sapped you of your energy? Or about how it fed you someone else's life force?_

_No, why…oh. _She suddenly tried to summon up all of her memories of the place, only to realize that there were so many holes that there was barely any coherency left. Stunned, she began to sink to her knees. Kouji let her slump against him, but with the steadily rising mist that thickened around their legs, Izumi began to slide down little by little.

She breathed out slowly. _It's so petty._

_What is?_

_Throwing books around just because I indirectly insulted it._

There were the beginnings of a smile on his face. Izumi felt her cheeks warm and instinctively covered the blush with both hands. Her teeth chattered. When Izumi realized what she was doing, she let her jaw click back into place with a loud snap. After a while, the heat melted back into her skin and the color of her face returned to its normal peachy white.

_Are you alright? _When Izumi didn't respond at first, he shook her slightly. _Princess?_

_We can't fight it, can we?_

_You already are._

_…and you aren't?_

Kouji replied, with tired honesty,_ I don't know how. I've been here so long that it's a part of me. I belong here. Or rather, I am a part of here._

_And you don't ever want to leave?_ Izumi sounded horribly skeptical. But then again, she could see why he was so accepting. Immortality wasn't so bad if you spent most of it asleep. It was peaceful. And there were books.

_I don't know._ Kouji inclined his head forward so that his lips were brushing the bridge of her nose.

She winced as a cold line ran up her legs and suddenly submerged them both to the waist. It was too chilly for her to doze off, so instead she tried to distract herself with Kouji's bandages.

He let her trace patterns on the white ribbons before taking her hands and laying them flat on his chest._ What is it like? On the outside?_

_You really don't know?_

_The water,_ he said simply.

She bit her lip and tried to feel angry on his behalf, but all that came out was a distant sense of sorrow. At this point, Izumi knew just how blissful ignorance could be, and she saw no reason to change something that had obviously worked for him. _It's very bright, because of the sun. And there's night, too, when it sets…and it looks a lot like this place, actually. The water's colder, and wetter, and when you touch it some of the drops stay on your skin for a long time._

_The water is actually solid?_

_Er, well, we actually don't consider it a solid…it's actually a liquid. No, never mind. It's a science thing. _She chewed on her lip, grateful for Kouji's honest attempt at making small talk.

_Science. I think I remember something about that…_

_You came from the outside, right?_

_Maybe. But I don't consider it my home._

_You can't just erase your past like that, Kouji._

_Listen, princess. Time is meaningless here. Learn to think in terms of the present, or learn to keep your thoughts safe._

She shuddered at the warning. _I'll try._

Kouji tightened his arms around her. _I hope you do._

Neither mentioned the fact that they probably would not have the chance to do anything. Making statements of hopelessness was reserved for moments of optimism. Izumi seriously wanted to laugh. Why was it that they only brought up fate and inevitability when it was not dangling in front of their faces?

The water was up to their chins. Izumi laid her head against his shoulder, feeling indescribably heavy._ I wonder if we can drown to death here._

_Even if we could, we won't._

_How can you be so sure?_

_If you die, you won't be able to think anymore. And if you can't make new thoughts, then what's the point of keeping you here? The water needs your memories._

_You make it sound almost human,_ she muttered accusingly.

_Do I?_

The question was obviously rhetorical, so she ignored it completely. _What's going to happen to us?_

_Depends. It's been a while since we got out of the water – so you'll probably lose quite a few thoughts. Making up for lost time._

_What about you?_

His breath passed over her ear, but it didn't feel warm at all. She touched his cool skin and shuddered. Not for the first time, Izumi wondered whether her companion was even alive anymore. He called himself a memory, after all…

_Princess, I'll be fine. It wouldn't be the first time._

_You've tried getting out before, Kouji?_ Izumi stared at him in disbelief. But it made sense, now that she thought about it. Wasn't it always Kouji who shot down plan after plan, quietly citing obscure rules about power and time? Where would he have learned those things if not from bitter experience? Izumi bit her lip contemplatively, wondering what he had tried to do…and why he had given up.

_I must have. But I don't really remember. _That wasn't completely true, and Izumi sent a wave of displeasure at his overtired evasions. He winced slightly as if in pain. _Princess, stop it._

_Tell me the truth._

_I am._

_No, you aren't._

_I can't lie to you, princess. Not without lying to myself._ He sounded amused. _Miming…_

_Is the direct transfer of thoughts. I know, I know. But you only said that you couldn't lie. You didn't say anything about telling the complete truth._

_Princess, the water._

She swallowed hard; cold mist lapped against her mouth and she held her breath. Kouji lifted her up slightly and let her cling to his neck, but it only bought her a few inches. And she could already feel the holes boring into her memories, like an army of ants crawling inside her head._ Kouji, do you know if the water can talk?_

_It can._

Gently, she slipped her hands under the surface to where he was holding her around her waist. _Let go, then._

_…Giving up?_

_Never. _Izumi ran a hand under her long hair, wondering what she should do – what she could do. _But I don't plan to wait for the inevitable._

He nodded a little jerkily; she felt the vibration against her chest. _Go._

She dropped and made no splash in the water.

Immediately, colors inverted and she was staring at a brilliant white landscape. It was dazzling and for the briefest moment, she was lost and didn't know what to do. Surprisingly, the closer she got, the warmer it was, until it nearly burned to touch.

"Who are you?" Izumi didn't even realize that she had opened her mouth to say it until water rushed in and choked her up. Even though the moisture stung in her chest, she clenched her jaw and refused to cough. Blood pounded in her ears. Buoyed by some invisible force, Izumi began to float laterally toward the source of the light.

Every sensation in her body, including the pain, was fading. Izumi tried to move her fingers and toes. Nothing happened, but she was too far gone to feel panicked.

She opened her mouth and began choking again. That alone wasn't painful, but the mist around her suddenly began pulsing agitatedly. Izumi blinked slowly, before understanding dawned. She breathed in and out, not caring if the moisture clogged up her lungs. That was exactly what she wanted. Although her body had been almost numb before this, the slightest ache returned to her chest and made her gasp. That started a vicious cycle of breathing and choking. She grinned victoriously as the waves grew frenzied around her, tightly pressed against her skin.

"Take that," she said, making sure to force another big wave of mist into her lungs at the same time. "That, that, that." Her body rebelled, protesting against the pool of liquid that suddenly saturated her lungs and blocked the delicate airways. It hurt in ways that she wasn't quite ready for, but in the end didn't the ends justify the means?

The mist suddenly retreated, leaving her to float in a vast sea of nothingness. Izumi blinked in surprise.

Soft whispers of liquid clung to her body and suddenly caught her in a full body bind. She hissed at how tightly the lines indented into her skin. And then, hanging off of the delicate fibers like a pitiful insect caught up in a spider's web, Izumi slowly raised her eyes to stare at the mass of water in front of her.

It was a shapeless, formless ball of light. Every so often, it would pulse the long tendrils that extended outward from the center, and then tiny rays of light would follow along those pathways. But Izumi wasn't terribly concerned about what it was doing. Instead, she carefully twisted her limbs around, testing the limits of her makeshift cage.

A ripple of power, and then. Fury. Pain. Sadness. Desperation. Breaking.

Swallowing hard, Izumi slowly let her limbs fall limp against the mist. No wonder Kouji had been so hesitant to help her. The chaotically organized barrier of her mind was completely shredded under the onslaught, and she whimpered.

So much anger. Izumi trembled, mouth open and ragged gasps forcing their way in and out of her lungs. So much…where did all this hate come from? Was it really so bad that the water took these emotions away? She closed her eyes, uselessly, because her memories dripped away like tiny snowflakes in the sun. And then something ripped, whether it was in her or in the water she didn't know, but something did.

A pool of red suddenly flooded her vision, and Izumi let out a faint groan. The scent of blood woke up her drowsy brain, but it came along with a thick wave of nausea. Izumi just wanted to curl up into a delicate little ball and wait for the world to go away. Her hands clenched into fists, quietly and rejectingly.

"Is that really it?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "You're not…the beginning of the earth. You're just pain. That's all?"

A frenzied hiss escaped the thick, translucent mass.

She smiled bitterly. "I get it. I get it. You needed me to hate you, right?"

As if in remorse, a few thin streams of mist touched her face, gently stroking the apple of her cheek. When they retracted, something pulled away from the surface of her skin, and Izumi stared as the tube of liquid elongated.

"Please stop," she said quietly. Then it kept going, and Izumi threw it off with a sharp flick of her head. More firmly, she said, "Stop."

Tiny drops hovered in the air, separated from the rest of the water. They floated up to her and suddenly splashed against Izumi's eyes. A dizzying sense of vertigo knocked her back a little, but she eventually recovered well enough to see – herself? Concentrating on the newly returned memory, a brief argument with her aging mother approximately six years ago, Izumi didn't notice anything special about it. That was until she saw herself leaving the room…and realized that the flashback was from her mother's perspective.

She floated between shock and confusion. How did her mother's memories end up in a place like this?

Another drop clipped away from the water and she smacked it away, not wanting to see where this was going to go. The tugging feeling in her stomach doubled, and Izumi suddenly realized that her bonds had been loosened. She took advantage of that now, and sucked her stomach in as the strands slid easily over her body.

Izumi saw the wave coming at her too late to avoid it and ended up completely submerged again. She sputtered and kicked with her legs, and something more solid than water caught around her ankle. Even though it was difficult seeing anything in the foggy sea, Izumi managed to pull her leg up with her hands.

A tangled web of white spirals locked together into a chain around her ankle. Letting go, Izumi began to scan the rest of the sea, looking for more makeshift manacles, and now that she was actively searching for them, the little spots of white were very easy to pick out against the grayness of the water. Chains extended outward like spokes of a wheel, all coming from the white light.

Uneasily, Izumi touched the spirals around her ankle. They didn't sting to touch, so she grabbed the knotted lines and tried to pull them apart. The ends unraveled, but at the very center, the loops were tight and held fast. She gnawed at them with her teeth and that section of the chain came loose with a few well-placed jerks.

Loose, but not free. Hidden under the white spirals was a thick black core that looked like plastic. Try as she might, it wouldn't open up to let her out.

She hissed and kept trying anyway.

In the meantime, the chain began to pull her closer and closer to the light. Izumi closed her eyes as if in denial, and tugged back in the opposite direction.

It was only then that she remembered to keep talking. "What're you going to do with me?"

Thrumming. Whispers rose up from the illuminated mist like gentle vapors, and it only took a few seconds of straining to hear the reply. And even then, it was more like the chanting of a mob than anything else. Izumi could hear faint snatches of words, but they were utterly contradictory and unhelpful.

Some spoke of fate – that was inevitable. There was also the mention of death, and water, the ability to breath, helplessness…that didn't help, either. Izumi had already been through that. The more interesting snatches of dialogue came from the quietest voices.

Underneath, there was a gentle chorus. "Strings." Over and over again.

"Cut them."

"Strings…"

The minute she opened her eyes, the voices vanished. Izumi quickly looked around, bewildered, and realized that she was holding on to the bright chain so tightly that her hands were going numb.

It was then that she also noticed another chain right next to her. The line went far into the distance, rippling like the tentacles of an anemone. Izumi reached out cautiously to touch it, but it sped past her, ripping out of her grip. She hissed, snatching back her hand. Friction burned a tingling path on her palm, but the cold moisture in the air prevented too much damage. Still, the first layer of skin was starting to peel away.

Hesitantly, she reached her other hand out, and took a deep breath. This time when she grabbed the line, she didn't let go.

There was a painful snap against her ankle when the chain tore. Even with both hands latched firmly onto the moving column of light, it was getting harder to hold on.

And then the oddest thing happened. Little strings began to fly off of her back, growing longer and longer all the time. For lack of a better word, this _terrified_ her. The presence of something that she didn't know seeping out of her own body would have been disconcerting even under normal circumstances, but in a strange lopsided world like this?

She would have been insane not to worry.

The thin lines continued to lengthen. Izumi finally resolved to close her eyes and not look at the steady mass of filaments that were streaming down her back. It seemed that right after making this decision, her mind went on automatic. It could have been hours since then. It could have been mere seconds. The monotony of the scenery as she flew along didn't help her keep track at all. It was gray, gray, gray, everywhere she looked. How was it possible to drop into an ocean this deep, when on the surface she had been able to stand and touch the bottom with her toes?

She still didn't know. And now, Izumi wondered if knowing would even help.

No, wait, of course it would. The more she knew, the better her chances of getting out of here.

Izumi tried to concentrate, but the voices in the water didn't come back again. Even though she hadn't learned much from them, it was still disappointing that they were gone. In the end, she just held on to the moving stream.

Hesitantly, she tried to pull herself forward. By reaching with her left arm, the weight displacement was enough to make the entire chain shake weakly in the water.

Wait.

It was shaking. Eyes wide open, Izumi turned to stare at the thick rope in her hands. For something that was moving so fast, it was certainly easy to move it around – too easy. Cautiously, Izumi kicked her legs and the chain casually swung over to the other direction. She watched it go, breathing shakily.

The **chain** wasn't moving.

Everything else was.

Instantly, Izumi began to pull herself up with her hands, inch by inch. That seemed to be the only way to actually go anywhere, if the water really was flowing down. Painstakingly, she climbed against the current, wincing every time her weight was on the injured hand. Her arms were exhausted. It wasn't like she was an athlete, after all.

It got to the point where she just couldn't move anymore. Something pulled her back, and Izumi halfheartedly glanced down, just to see.

The strings on her back were so long that she couldn't see the ends. A hint of alarm brushed her, before she pushed it away and resolved to keep going. Only a few weary pulls later, they snagged. Izumi's entire body was jerked back. The hair thin strands had connected somewhere, and now they were stretched tight.

Carefully, she tried to reach just a little more.

A single thread ripped out with a soft snap, and sent a flare of agony down her back.

Izumi closed her eyes and cursed, trembling. So was this 'cutting the strings'? If so, it hurt. A lot. It was like a needle had stabbed that area over and over again. She really didn't want to do it anymore, but she really wanted to get out of here. Swallowing her nerves, Izumi swung up with one hand and pulled _hard_.

Entire sections ripped out, turning her body into a minefield of sensation. She groaned and clung to the thick white chain in her hands, hoping for a reprieve that wasn't coming. In the end, if she was going to have to put up with this much, why not a little more?

Snap, snap, snap.

It seemed to go on for hours.

And then it was over.

…

"What the hell did you do?" Someone was shaking her. With her eyes still closed, she reached out a hand and felt warm skin. That was enough to completely break her out of dreamland, and slowly, surely, her eyelashes lifted up.

It was so bright.

Swallowing hard, Izumi tried to lift her hand from where it was resting, only to have it wrenched away and gripped tightly.

"What the hell did you do?" That voice…

Her eyes went wide. "Kouji!" Then, more slowly, she realized, "You…we…talking?"

He snorted. "Observation skills, princess." His face wasn't as pale as she remembered, and when she looked at their hands, Izumi was stunned to see that his skin was much tanner than hers. She wondered if the lighting in that other place had changed things – but no, it was fine. At least they were out. Or were they?

"Kouji," Izumi murmured, hesitantly. "Why are we here?"

He snorted. "That's what I want to ask _you_."

She stared at him. "I did this?"

"You did _something_." He waved his hand around.

For the first time, Izumi realized that there was absolutely no water, anywhere. The plaster wall was still where it used to be, but under her feet was a very normal looking wood floor. It was dusty, but otherwise identical to her own at home.

Kouji took hold of her jaw and turned her attention to the front door, which was closed and locked. It was as though nothing had changed at all.

"Kouji," she breathed. "Is this…was this your home?"

"I lived here, yes," he murmured. Standing up, he pulled Izumi along with him.

She wobbled and fell over again. "Mmm. Tired…"

He sighed. "Tell me later. If I remember right, there should be a bed somewhere here."

Izumi was already asleep.

When she woke up again, groggily, Izumi almost forgot that she was already out of the water. The soft sheets around her and the warm body pressed against her back were very good reminders, however. Much more alert than before, she started to pull away…and blushed.

Kouji had taken off his bandages. They were in a messy pile right by his head, but the blankets didn't quite cover everything, probably because they were halfway off of the bed.

Izumi had to laugh, somewhat shakily. He had probably been just as tired as her last night. Or was it earlier today? Her sense of time had been completely warped, not that it had been normal to begin with. She looked out the window – almost forgetting that she could do that now – and saw the sun hanging high in the sky.

If it was noon now…they probably fell asleep last night, not this morning. Ah, well, it wasn't very important.

She lifted the blanket up and blinked. It smelled musty, like it hadn't been aired properly for a while. However, before she could start thinking of ways to give it a good cleaning, her stomach groaned softly.

Izumi stared down. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to be hungry. With a wry grin, the blond girl started to pull her body out of the thick, yellow sheets. Maybe she could go back to her house to get something?

She jumped when Kouji muttered drowsily, "Why are you already up, princess."

Note to self, apparently he was a very light sleeper. "Hungry." Izumi was struck by a sudden sense of longing. With the water, and miming, she had been able to practically taste his emotions. Speaking normally now seemed almost impersonal. She chewed her lip and wondered why she was even thinking of that.

Kouji seemed unaware of her internal dilemma, because he just groaned quietly. "Princess, you realize that we have no idea what's going on right now? It's probably a bad idea to eat anything."

She glared. "You aren't hungry?"

"Too sleepy to eat."

"Well, _I'm_ too hungry to sleep. See you."

Kouji reached out a hand and grabbed her wrist. "Don't eat anything from the refrigerator. There might be something in the pantry…"

She blinked at him. "Hey, Kouji…"

He didn't respond, but there was an air of awareness around him.

"What's the last date that you remember?"

His fingers twitched slightly. "June something. 1999."

"Oh." Her eyes went very wide.

"How long's it been?"

"More than a decade…oh."

"Hm?"

"You're, um. Actually a lot older than me, right?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" His voice was soft and sleepy.

"..."

"Time warps in that place. I don't think it counts."

Izumi blushed brightly and decided not to think about it anymore. "Erm, Kouji?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you get into the water?"

He was silent for a moment, then he turned around and looked at her. "I think…that I was in someone else's house."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He paused. "Hey, lie down or get out. You're letting the cold in."

"There isn't any cold," she muttered, but ended up sliding back under the covers. "So?"

"So nothing. I don't remember much about it. What about you?"

"I…heard that we had new neighbors."

"Where'd you hear it?"

She started to say, "My parents," but stopped halfway. Her jaw went slack. Where _did_ she hear the rumor? She hadn't spoken with her mother and father about anything since her tenth birthday. The thought gave her the chills, and she quietly curled up into the fetal position. Kouji's hand suddenly rested on her hip. Izumi took that as a cue to calm down and relax. She swallowed hard and whispered, "Is it bad if I don't know?"

"Not really. We've probably forgotten a lot."

"No, I mean…if there's no way that I heard about it from anyone?"

That got his attention. "What do you mean?"

"I…don't talk to anyone. At all. So how could I have possibly heard a rumor anywhere?"

He stared at her, dark eyes piercing. They fell into a comfortable position, Izumi with her face pressed against his shoulder and legs tucked in. One of Kouji's arms was under her body, the other was curled against her waist. Izumi couldn't remember the last time she had been this relaxed. The close proximity to another warm body made her feel like a cat.

"You really don't talk to anyone at all?" Kouji sounded amused.

Izumi flushed a little. "No."

"I think," he murmured, right into her ear, "that I've finally found someone more anti-social than I am."

She flushed even more, but finally the growling of her stomach got to be too much. She prodded him gently to let her go. "I'm going to go look for something to eat, okay?"

He nodded distantly.

Izumi pulled her hands away and got out of the bed. The mattress creaked under her weight, and she first wandered through the halls absently before she found the door to the living room at the very end. The kitchen was yet another door off that.

And it was completely empty. Not that she was surprised, but it was still a disappointment. The old wood cabinets had a few delicate pots and pans, but none of them had a single food item. In one of the corners, she found what ought to be the pantry. The only thing distinguishing it from a normal cabinet was its size, because there was nothing to eat in there either. Eventually, she saw something in one of the upper shelves.

Jumping up to get it, she managed to catch a hold of the top shelf, but then her grip slipped and she crashed back down on the ground. "Ouch!"

Knocking sounds echoed down the hall and long arms pulled her up. Izumi winced as the bruises on her back suddenly moved around, but for the most part, she was very cooperative. Kouji's breaths came in quick gasps from running, but he didn't seem to notice. Most of his attention was focused on holding her up.

She pushed him away. "I'm okay, just – ow – a little bruised?"

He eyed her somewhat grimly and tucked back her hair. "I just saw you."

That made her stare at him blankly. "Eh?"

"I saw you. Outside."

"Another…me?"

"Yeah. When did you come by the back door?"

"The back? That was…" Her eyes went wide. "That was the first day."

"How long ago?"

"Um," she thought about it, "Four months, I think."

He stared at her. "Why did you wait so long…no, wait. Anti-social. Now I remember."

Izumi pouted. "Hey, I have no problems with it now."

"Of course," he said. His hand was locked in her hair. "So now we've solved the problem of where we are. Or rather, when."

She swallowed. "Why did it send us to the past?"

"Probably so that we wouldn't contradict ourselves."

"What?"

"I should be the one saying that. What did you _do_ that day?"

She swallowed and told him everything, as much as she could remember. Even the parts that seemed nonsensical in hindsight. Her voice cracked and shook by the end of it, and Kouji left to go find water.

He came back with a glass of clear, sparkling liquid. When she looked at him questioningly, he said, "It was in a package. Out front."

Izumi stared at him and laughed. "Oh. I see. So that's what they were for…"

Kouji shrugged, and she suddenly realized that he was actually wearing a shirt. Talk about a delayed reaction…Izumi grinned at him. He tilted his head in confusion. "What?"

"Shirt."

He gave her a flickering smile. "Yes. I did. Anything else you want to notice way after you should have noticed it?"

Izumi sniffed dismissively.

Kouji cleared his throat after a companionable silence. "So, back to what we were talking about earlier.…"

"Right," she said, "About the contradiction?"

"Yeah. When we entered that place, we automatically forfeited our future. We were supposed to spend forever there, see?"

"Uh-huh?"

"So obviously, that didn't happen. But since our future was already set in stone, there was no way to change it."

"In other words, to get out of that place, we had to go to the past instead?"

"Apparently."

"So how did that happen?"

"I have a theory," he admitted. "The chain that you were climbing – I think that may have been the flow of time. The strings on your back should have attached you to the 'present,' but when you broke them, maybe that was enough to transport you into a different time?"

"I don't see why those were solid…Shouldn't time be more…I don't know, abstract?"

He shrugged. "If you think about it, that place had a ridiculously complex structure, so what we got to see could be a simplified version of what it actually is."

"Makes sense, I guess. But then why're you here?"

Kouji actually looked somewhat uncomfortable when he said, "Don't kill me for this."

"What?" she stared at him, then demanded, "What did you do?"

"Remember the spirals that I gave you?"

"To drink?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, I remember them." She glared. "Still haven't forgiven you yet."

He swallowed. "Would you be more or less angry if I told you those were _my_ memories?"

Izumi's jaw dropped. "What?"

"That's how miming is possible. When you establish a connection – helped along by a donation of thoughts…"

"So," she said, monotonously, "You gave me enough to make a connection that dragged you with me?"

"Apparently."

"I don't like you right now."

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

It was an honest apology. Izumi closed her eyes and sighed. "Which ones are your memories?"

"You can't feel them. I made sure to give you duplicates."

"Duplicates?"

"Memories that included you. So that you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between mine and yours."

"I see," she whispered. They stayed like that, in silence.

Kouji broke it. "I'm sorry."

"I'm probably going to forgive you," she said, flatly, "Because it ended up helping me out. Just…be patient, okay? I'm just sort of mad at the world right now."

Kouji pulled her against him and let her head drop onto his chest. His thumb rubbed circles on her shoulder blades. "That's fine. But you should know…"

"Know what?"

"The packages also had books. Old books."

Izumi stared forward and began to laugh. "Oh. I see. So we're going to recreate that place, aren't we? Book wall and all?"

"Do you mind?"

She swallowed hard. "No. Do you?"

"Not at all. The water's not evil, you know."

"Even if it _is_ petty?"

She felt his lips curl against her hair. "Sensitive might be a better word."

"Ha. True."

"And we have…what did you say, four months to do it?"

"That's what I figure. What do you think is going to happen to us at the end of that?"

Kouji shrugged. The vibration of his voice pressed against her cheek. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. It should be fine, as long as you figure out how to do the impossible. Again."

"Does that bother you? Being stuck with me?"

He stared at her. "Really, princess? Really?"

"Oh. That was a bad question, right?"

"Just this once, I'll forgive you for it."

"Thanks, I think?" She paused. "By the way, where are we going to get the water?"

"It'll come," he shrugged. "We just have to give some memories away."

Izumi toyed with her long hair and grinned. "I have an idea. But we're going to need black paint. And scissors."

He looked at her and frowned. "You're going to cut your hair?"

"Yeah. For our first memory."

"It's important to you?"

"Yes. Childhood thing. Don't ask."

"But I like your hair."

Izumi stared at him and burst out laughing. She choked and gasped, breathily, against his neck. "You're just going to have to get used to it."

"Fine. I was just thinking that the front door could use a new coat of paint anyways."

* * *

End


End file.
